First Score
by WindAndWaterAlchemist
Summary: PLOTLESS story. Hisoka's thoughts about Tsuzuki, leading up to their twentieth anniversary as partners. NOT yaoi, but does contain MILD references to MxM attraction.


**AN: I haven't quite finished the Manga, so I'm leaving out any certain reference to what eventually happens to Muraki. (Does it even explain? I dunno.) This is based on the Manga, not the anime, just in case you spot any differences. **

**This is an extremely pointless story; just random moments in the life of Tsuzuki and Hisoka, lol. Also, please note that in this story, they think of each other as brothers, not as romantic interests. I'm not a yaoi writer, sorry. **

Before Tsuzuki, when the nightmares came, he had no comfort. A normal nightmare was so simple, so easily forgotten. Normal nightmares, born in the hearts of normal people, were simply fears which were easily forgotten in daylight. But not his. His nightmares were memories. Memories of horrible, unspeakable things. Memories he could never escape, not as long as his tormentor lived. The red marks on his skin bore testament to that truth.

For so long, he dreamt and sobbed and screamed alone. Even before the memories were returned to him in waking hours, he had still had the nightmares. They had puzzled him then, as much as they had horrified him. He could not understand them until his memory was restored and he realized they were true, memories of what horror had befallen him in life. The knowledge that they were true, and not simply figments of a nervous imagination, only added to the terror.

He used to wake at night, the red curse vivid on his body, and sob into his pillow. Even death had not freed him. However, death, and his new position as a Shinigami, did allow him the chance to find his killer, the one who had cursed him. Still, even in Meifu where he should have felt safe, he dreamt, and he screamed into the darkness of the night. Often he would rise and turn on every light in his small apartment, turn on the TV, lock the windows and draw the curtains, deadbolt the door, and then curl up in his bed and shake until he dozed back into fitful sleep.

Then, he had met his new partner. Tsuzuki was a lazy, sweet-toothed idiot who was too nice for his own good. And yet, Hisoka was drawn to him. At first, he had actually developed something of a crush on the older man, which was a new experience, considering he had always thought that sort of thing to be rather distasteful. But Tsuzuki's flirtatious nature, his startling and beautiful amethyst eyes, his strange way of bouncing from puppy-eyed and childlike to masculine and powerful…it seemed impossible for anyone close to him not to be attracted to him, regardless of gender and sexual orientation. Hisoka suspected he wasn't the only one; Watari and Tatsumi both seemed to normally identify as straight, and yet Tsuzuki often seemed to be an exception, especially to Tatsumi.

Attraction or no, it would have been next to impossible for Hisoka to be intimate with his partner, had the opportunity presented itself. The memories were too strong. The idea of being touched by a man was not simply repulsing, as it might be to a man attracted only to women; for Hisoka, it was utterly terrifying. Tsuzuki would never know how hard it had been, to risk himself for Hijiri, knowing something was wrong with his partner. Tsuzuki would never know how that feeling, how the demon's hands on his body; Tsuzuki's hands…had traumatized him. It had been like the night Muraki killed him again, except that he had only been touched, not violated; and instead of a curse he had been hacked at and mutilated. He'd done it for Tsuzuki; knowing the older man would never forgive himself for killing Hijiri. It was one of the greatest sacrifices he had ever made. Yet even after that, he'd been attracted to Tsuzuki, albeit knowing he could never take it further.

Over time, however, Hisoka's infatuation had faded and changed into something completely different, but stronger. It started with the nightmares. Aboard the Queen Camellia, haunted by his killer's presence, he had dreamt again, ever horrifying detail of the night Muraki raped and cursed him. And, instinctively calling out to the only person who had ever seemed to truly care for him, he screamed Tsuzuki's name, and Tsuzuki came. Nobody had ever come when he called before. From that moment, Tsuzuki wasn't just his partner, wasn't a boyish crush. He was family. Father, mother, sister, brother, all wrapped into one. Everything Hisoka had never truly had. Everything he had wished for when his parents hurt him, locked him in a small room, called him monster. Everything he had needed so bad, that night under the cherry tree when no one came to save him. Everything he had longed for, when he spent his last days hospitalized and alone, no one visiting, no one caring. Everything he had secretly cried for while he hid behind his cold shields.

He loved Tsuzuki more than anyone else, ever. And he knew the feeling was reciprocated. He suspected that most of the others thought they were lovers, and occasionally, that old attraction did make itself known. He saw it in Tsuzuki's eyes too; the awareness of the other's attractiveness, the knowledge that it would be enjoyable to try to be something more than what they presently were. Yet, through unspoken agreement, things stayed the way they were. They did not love each other romantically. They loved each other as brothers, as family, as best friends. It would be stupid to risk that by surrendering to simple physical attraction. With time, the feeling became easier to ignore, and eventually, they were as true brothers, talking about girls like stupid adolescents and hanging posters of models in bikinis on the walls of their now shared apartment. Tatsumi used to snort and roll his eyes at them, yet Hisoka had the feeling he was happy that Tsuzuki was happy.

Each had his share of dark memories. Hisoka's rape and slow death; Tsuzuki's wicked past, his insanity and suicide. Muraki, a painful topic for both of them. Hard things to overcome. They each had their share of nightmares. More often than not, Hisoka found himself crawling into Tsuzuki's bed in the middle of the night, either to receive comfort or to give it. At first, doing so had felt strange, but there had been a night when the dreams were so bad he couldn't fathom staying alone. The next morning, feeling awkward about having snuggled into Tsuzuki's bed like a child crawling in to join his parents, he had stammered apologies. Tsuzuki had laughed, sitting on the kitchen counter in his pajamas with a forkful of chocolate cake stuffed in his mouth.

"Don't be silly Hisoka, if you feel better sleeping with me, I don't mind."

"B-but…we're guys. Isn't that weird?"

"Who cares? Most of the girls I know always have sleepovers and share beds. If they can do it and not be weird, why can't we? Watari sleeps with 003, and Hakushaku-sama sleeps with a candle snuffer and" Tsuzuki winced. "a picture of me. I think Chief Konoe has a teddy bear. Tatsumi sleeps with his savings under his pillow in case someone tries to make off with them. Somehow, I don't think we're the weirdest people around here."

Hisoka had laughed softly, and ever since, whenever he had nightmares, and whenever he heard Tsuzuki whimper in his sleep, he cuddled into bed with the man he considered his older brother. Watari had once come dancing in early in the morning and found them that way, which might have been exceedingly awkward if not for the fact that they'd both been fully clothed and there was nothing to suggest they'd done anything improper; and Watari, despite that he teased them, truly understood what their relationship was and what drove them to comfort each other thus.

One day, Hisoka came home and found Tsuzuki sitting on the couch, legs curled up under him, looking through an album filled with various pictures. Pictures of them all over Japan and Meifu; sometimes with the other Shinigami, occasionally with a human they had interacted with, sometimes just the two of them. Tsuzuki looked up, purple eyes sparkling happily.

"'soka, do you know what today is?"

Hisoka shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair before sitting on the arm of the couch.

"No, what's today?"

"Today is exactly twenty years since the day you put a fake gun to my head and called me vampire."

Hisoka blinked, startled.

"The day we met…"

Rising, he moved to a mirror hanging on the wall and studied the face reflected there. Could he really be 36 years old? The youth staring back at him was 16, and a small, frail 16 at that. Tsuzuki came up behind him, his dark reflection contrasting with Hisoka's light one. Tsuzuki was over 100 by now, by several years. He didn't look a day over 26. Hisoka sighed.

"You know, if there's one thing I've always wished, it's that I could have lived just a while longer. A year or two or three more. Long enough to look like a man. You died at such a perfect age; completely mature and yet not at all faded. Watari and Tatsumi too. Why do I have to be a kid forever?"

Tsuzuki smiled.

"In a way, I wish you'd gotten to live a full, normal, happy life; grow and mature, get married, have kids and grandkids, and die at a ripe old age surrounded by people who love you. But…at the same time, I'm glad for having you here, just like you are. Sometimes this place gets so stuffy, no matter how immature Watari and I like to act. We feel our age sometimes. It's good to have somebody around who's constantly a bratty adolescent." Hisoka glared at him, and Tsuzuki laughed, tussling his light hair. "Besides, looking so young hasn't done you any harm. Most of the women and even a few of the men around here think you're hot. You probably get more action than even I do, and I'm pretty popular if I say so myself."

Hisoka snorted.

"You're more popular than me with the guys at least. The Count is a fine example…and Tatsumi starts having nosebleeds whenever you come into a room. Even Watari occasionally starts ogling you. There's something about you, Tsuzuki, you turn all the guys bi."

Tsuzuki was blushing and pouting, but then he crossed his arms and smirked.

"Oh yeah, well what about Terazuma and his little reaction to you, hmm?"

"He was just uptight 'cause he was denying his feelings for Wakaba. Once they got together and figured out a spell to keep him from changing when they touch, he stopped changing when he touched me."

"You're too pretty for your own good, Hisoka."

Hisoka thumped Tsuzuki's head, but not hard enough to hurt. He headed for the kitchen, his sulking, puppy-like partner trailing along behind.

"What do you want for dinner, Tsu?"

"Choco-"

"No chocolate! Something healthy!"

"Apple pie? Apples are healthy!"

"Not when they're soaked in that much sugary junk! We'll have rice or something. Go boil some water. Do you think you can do that without setting the kitchen on fire? I don't want a repeat of last month."

"That wasn't my fault!"

"No of course not," Hisoka pulled a pot from one of the cupboards and considering banging Tsuzuki's head with it, just a little. "the stove turned itself on high and forgot to turn itself back off, how could I forget that?"

Tsuzuki laughed brightly, running water into the pot. He spoke in a syrupy, overdone flirtatious tone.

"We should do something special to celebrate our anniversary, my love."

Hisoka glared, but he couldn't help laughing at the way Tsuzuki batted his long eyelashes like an old cartoon character. He was surprised when the older man suddenly snatched him and hugged him so tightly he could barely breathe.

"You never used to laugh like that, Hisoka. The first few years, even seeing you smile was rare. I'm so happy when you laugh."

Once, being this close to anyone, especially a man, would have caused a complete panic attack. He probably would have fainted. Even now, there was a wave of fear, and yet when Tsuzuki's emotions flowed into him, Hisoka felt himself relax. He was fairly used to touching Tsuzuki. There were nights, when he curled into his partner's bed while Tsuzuki was having a nightmare, when it was nearly overwhelming. The force of Tsuzuki's horror, fear, anguish, all pouring into him, was terrible. And yet, he withstood it, because once he wrapped his arms around the other man, the feelings always faded fast. Other nights, when it was Hisoka who had the nightmares, he curled into Tsuzuki's bed and was hit with waves of lust, residue from Tsuzuki's dreams, which at first had made him frightened, but had eventually become somehow funny. Occassionally he could even pick up just who Tsuzuki dreamt about, fodder for teasing in the morning. At the moment, all he felt was happiness and love. No dark shadows in the corners of Tsuzuki's mind, not right now. He was just truly happy that his "little brother" had laughed. Hisoka hugged him back.

Finally, smiling, Hisoka pushed his partner away.

"Go on, Baka, go watch TV or something while I make dinner, you're just in the way!"

Tsuzuki smiled brightly and practically danced out of the kitchen, making Hisoka laugh again.

Twenty years together.

Twenty long, hard years.

Twenty wonderful years.


End file.
